


Worse Than Your Bite

by TheSopherfly



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Bloodlust, Bucky is a vampire, M/M, Oral Sex, Steve is a witch, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Witches, heed the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSopherfly/pseuds/TheSopherfly
Summary: Bucky doesn't like being a vampire. Steve helps him see things differently.~In which Bucky (a vampire) meets Steve (a witch), they get together, and Bucky learns to love doing what vampires do best: sucking blood.





	Worse Than Your Bite

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Worse Than Your Bite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445956) by [SpaceTrash (DesolateHappiness)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesolateHappiness/pseuds/SpaceTrash). 



> Collaboration for the CapRBB with the lovely [mrs-dr-strange](https://mrs-dr-strange.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks to folklejend for beta reading!

Bucky hated being a vampire.

He wasn’t alone. Of all the vampires he’d met, and there had been a fair few, only one had ever expressed any kind of positive outlook on the change. Something about getting to see the world and witness history being made. Bucky agreed that there were fringe benefits to living forever, and being nearly invincible had its small share of advantages. But on the whole, Bucky failed to see his vampirism as anything other than a curse. He hated being a vampire; but it had been a long time since he’d turned, and he was used to it by now.

_I think ‘long time’ depends on your perspective_. 

True, he admitted begrudgingly to himself. Three years was a long time for a _human_. Not for a vampire. For someone like him, someone with an arguably interminable lifespan, it might as well have been seconds since his mortal life had ended. The memory wasn’t vivid. Humans stored memories so inefficiently, and he had still been human then. He remembered being close to death, injured and feverish, a storm raging in his head. Infection. And he would’ve died, had it not been for the bite of a vampire. 

_You could hardly call this living._

Well. In all fairness, alive was no longer the right term for it. For _him_. Now his blood moved cold and dark and thick through his veins like some kind of sludge, full of venom instead of oxygen. His lungs still allowed him to breathe in and out, but the action served no purpose; the same was true for eating, though alcohol still depressed his altered nervous system enough to give him a comforting buzz. His strength and speed were unparalleled, so much so that he often fought to keep them in check. To keep them invisible.

The years, few as they were, had dulled his bloodlust to an annoying ache just behind his fangs that sometimes traveled up into his cheeks, contributing to his permanent scowl. His heightened senses probably played a role in his less than sunny disposition, too; they only made mortal flaws more pronounced. Labored breathing. Sweat. Rapid heartbeat. Stress hormones, the smell of them sickeningly sweet to his vampiric nose. The world was full of _humans_ , and too many of them were liars and cowards, pretending every minute of every day. His body told him more about every mortal within range than he’d ever wanted to know, and as much as he sneered at them - after all, they were nothing more than _prey_ \- for some reason, he still longed to be like them. To be human. He wondered if that would ever stop.

Bucky had changed professions just after his transformation. He’d dropped his job at the gym and bought himself a camera. A damned expensive camera, with all its special accompaniments. He figured since he was likely to live at least a thousand years, it wouldn’t take long to see a return on the investment. 

Photography was a solitary exercise. It involved quiet, focused observation. Very little talking. Very little interaction, the way he did it, anyway. Becoming a photographer had made it easier not to be noticed. Creatures weren’t feared in all parts of the world, but they weren’t openly accepted in most. Behind the camera, anything odd about Bucky was easily overlooked as artistic eccentricity. No one would assume he was a creature. And this job had the added benefit of keeping Bucky behind the camera at all times. Contrary to popular belief, vampires did appear in photographs, and in mirrors, too - but they didn’t look quite right. His image came out pale. Disquieting. Strange. It was better not to be photographed at all.

Bucky had been hired to take website photos for the newly renovated university library. The location for this gig was more ideal than most. Three blocks away from his small ranch-style house, which he’d bought five years ago with his inheritance. When he’d first turned, he’d made a point of spending time away from this place. He hadn’t wanted to be tempted. There were always students around, and in the beginning they had all smelled so _good_. Now, he justified the proximity to the school as an exercise in self-control. He’d never bitten a human, and he never planned to. This offered him some daily practice.

Bucky stepped outside and locked the door, camera bag slung over his shoulder, tightness creeping into his shoulders as he took the steps down to the sidewalk. The morning sunlight stung his skin, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t manage. Rumors still surfaced once in a while that vampires couldn’t handle sunlight. That it might make them explode. Bucky chuckled to himself at the thought. Ridiculous. No vampire had ever exploded, not for any reason. Been torn to pieces and burned alive, yes. But not exploded.

It took fifteen minutes to make the circuitous walk around the campus’s perimeter, circling the school about halfway before reaching the library. He ascended the stone steps and pushed the large glass doors open exactly five minutes shy of the agreed-upon time. Bucky was, among all his other faults, obsessively punctual.

He stood in the entryway and blinked, taking in the new height of the building’s interior. It seemed to go on forever, the ceiling stretching up toward the sky, the windows letting in more light than he’d ever seen in a library. He wondered if that put the books in any kind of danger of fading; regardless, the effect was beautiful, making the room look larger and more pleasant than he’d expected. He’d seen the library before the renovations. It had been a small, cramped space. This was obviously an unqualified improvement. 

He made his way across the tiled floor toward the circulation desk, wondering which areas he was supposed to photograph, or if the librarian might let him choose. He could see the opportunity for some wonderful framing in the study alcoves off to his right, and he’d need to take a few pictures of the entrance, capturing the full expanse of the building from the inside.

The circulation desk was manned by a single employee, Bucky noticed. Hopefully his library contact. The man was busy organizing a stack of books and didn’t look up, not even when Bucky was a few feet away. Bucky paused, his attention entirely arrested. The man was _beautiful_ , tall and blonde and all muscle, and entirely unassuming, as if he had no earthly idea how gorgeous he was. Vampiric attraction was different than human arousal, but Bucky felt it nonetheless. Fire flared in his chest, a warm kind of tingling traveling up and down his spine. Bucky’s eyes swept over broad shoulders and muscular arms, admiring tanned skin where it was visible, noticing the way the tee-shirt clung to the man’s biceps and chest. His gaze drifted lower, admiring both the jeans that fit snugly over the man’s hips and the muscles underneath. Bucky inhaled briefly, wondering if this man smelled as good as he looked. 

Bucky froze for a fraction of a second, stunned. This man was a _creature_. Not a vampire; didn’t smell like a vampire. Not a werewolf or a demon either. Had to be a witch.

He should’ve known right away. Even creatures had tells other than scent. He’d been distracted by the man’s appearance; hadn’t been paying enough attention. It didn’t help that Bucky had never met a witch before. They didn’t run in the same circles. Historically, vampires and witches weren’t good at getting along.

_And you’re_ attracted _to him, too._

Bucky pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to retreat the way he’d come. After all, this was good money. No use throwing it away over a little complication. He crossed the remaining distance and rested his arms casually on the desk, putting on his most pleasant, unassuming smile.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Bucky started, “but are you the librarian?”

“I sure am,” the man said, turning around to face Bucky. “Steve Rogers. Pleasure to meet you.”

Bucky didn’t get to make his own introduction before he saw realization dawn on Steve’s face. He knew very little about witches, but he was sure they could sense other creatures just like he could. He waited for the friendliness in Steve’s expression to disappear, expecting that beautiful nose to crinkle in disgust. After all, if vampires were warned to avoid witches, he had to imagine the reverse was also true.

Instead of drawing back, Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk between them. He tilted his head to the side, looking curious.

_Not turned off by vampires. Interesting._

Right. This was the part of the introduction where Bucky was supposed to reciprocate the greeting. “Bucky Barnes,” he replied belatedly. Steve held out a hand, and Bucky took it, surprised to be offered a handshake at all. Steve’s hand enveloped his in a firm grip, the heat radiating through Bucky’s cold palm. Witches, Bucky realized, were electric. Warm like fire and full of something that reminded Bucky of music.

Bucky breathed in again and wished he hadn’t. This close, Steve’s scent was incredible. Intoxicating. More potent and compelling than anything he’d ever smelled from a mortal. Was that unique to Steve, Bucky wondered? It had been so long since he’d seen another creature, it was difficult to tell. His body burned, something like _wanting_ alight under his skin. He clenched his jaw, resisting a sudden, strong desire to bare his fangs.

_Well. That’s… different._

Steve released Bucky’s hand and leaned closer, pitching his voice low. “You’re a vampire.”

The proximity made Bucky shiver. “And you’re a witch.” He considered Steve a moment, then asked, “People ever give you trouble?”

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes. Not as often as you’d think. What about you?”

“People think I’m… odd. Quiet. They usually don’t figure it out.”

“You’re probably better at keeping secrets than I am.” Leaning the way he was, the muscles in Steve’s shoulders were more pronounced, his biceps flexing to support his weight, and his smile had Bucky reconsidering every past promise not to fraternize with witches or get caught up in short-term flings.

“I just keep a low profile is all,” Bucky said, clearing his throat, being careful not to breathe in. The less he smelled this witch, the better. “Um. Did you have any shots you wanted?”

Steve shook his head. “Nothing specific. Just a couple exterior, then the rest inside. The idea is to get more student interest, so anything our marketing team can doctor up and slap our branding onto works for me. I leave it up to your good judgment.”

Bucky smiled a little despite himself. He appreciated when clients trusted him enough to do the work without micromanagement. And if Steve meant it as flattery, Bucky was allowed to enjoy it a little.

_At your own risk._

“Great,” Bucky said, taking a small step back as if keeping enough space between them made any difference at all. “I’ll go ahead and get started, then.”

~

The new library was so large, it took Bucky three days to photograph it all.

Bucky enjoyed the work, at least. The library was impressive, five floors in total, not including the lower level. Each floor held innumerable volumes, and he’d scoured every inch of every floor, spending more time than he probably should’ve taking pictures of the older texts housed in the basement. There was something about old books. They were interesting. Eye catching, with their weathered covers and ancient-looking bindings, the print always some illegible medieval scrawl. They were proof of the university’s large collection, at least, which would be a selling point. 

Bucky hadn’t just photographed books. He’d captured the study areas, each one with a different layout and design; private rooms for research or private musical practice, of all things; two cafes, each serving coffee and a ridiculously large assortment of pastries; and bookcases tall enough that they required ladders in order to reach the topmost shelves. It had been an interesting exploration, and the university would have more than enough material to use on their website for years to come, given how many memory cards he’d filled up. High quality always took up more space, but it was always worth it in the end. After taking his final shot, he tucked his camera back into the case and slung his bag over his shoulder, taking the stairs from the second floor to the lobby two at a time.

Bucky wasn’t sure what made him approached the circulation desk. He’d been avoiding Steve since their first introduction, trying to get Steve’s scent out of his nose. It was no use, of course. Vampires had nearly perfect memory, and even if he wasn’t close enough to smell Steve, he could remember the scent anyway. Besides which, now that Bucky knew Steve was _here_ , Steve’s presence was impossible to ignore. It was loud. Demanding of attention. And Bucky was intrigued.

_Dangerous. You like him. You want him._

Bucky hadn’t wanted to believe it, not at first. He’d finished his photos on the first day and packed up, and then lingered like an idiot near the entryway, not out in the open where he could be seen, but close enough that he could see Steve. He’d watched, and watched. He’d been like a damned predator stalking its prey.

_Maybe you are one,_ he’d thought.

That, more than anything else, had made him cautious. Extraordinarily so. He had given Steve a wide berth, making sure not to come into smelling distance. And yet. The more he’d tried to avoid Steve, the more he’d wanted Steve. Was that how it worked? He’d only ever lusted after blood. Now he was lusting after a person. A witch. Competing desires warred in his body and his mind, and an ache settled into his fangs and tugged at the back of his throat. Did Bucky want sex from Steve? Or did he just want to bleed Steve dry?

Both. It was both. And Bucky was confident Steve wouldn’t be interested in either option.

“Hey,” he said, getting Steve’s attention. “I’m all finished, so I’m gonna take off. I’ll send you the edited files by late next week.”

Steve looked up, eyebrows raised, then stood as if to follow Bucky out. “Hang on. You’re leaving?” he asked, and Bucky didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice.

“Job’s done. Unless you thought of some specific shots you need?”

“No, I just - I was actually going to ask if you might want to go on a date with me sometime,” Steve said.

Bucky blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. Tried desperately not to breathe in, because that scent would utterly undo him. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m…” Bucky trailed off. He couldn’t exactly say, ‘I think I’m lusting after your blood,’ not to someone he’d just met. “I’m not all that interesting. You’d get bored.”

Bucky could see it in Steve’s eyes - Steve knew Bucky was lying. “I don’t think so,” Steve said, more confident. Flirtatious. Like he knew how easily he could gain ground. “It’s been driving me crazy, knowing you’re here and not being able to talk to you.”

Bucky didn’t admit aloud that the feeling was mutual. Steve didn’t need to know that he’d been fighting just to keep himself from casually stopping by the desk for no reason at all. It wasn’t right. Vampires and witches weren’t supposed to be attracted to each other.

_Has that ever stopped anyone before?_

“Come over tonight,” Steve said, flashing a brilliant smile that Bucky was sure could’ve convinced lesser creatures without any resistance at all. “We can talk. Have a drink.” 

The words were innocent enough, but they were punctuated with what sounded like the promise of more. _More_ was something Bucky hadn’t had in a very long time. Sex. Christ, did he even remember how to do it? And even if sex with the handsomest man he had ever met, witch or not, was a possibility, would Bucky be able to curb his other desire, the one he didn’t want to name, the one that made him feel almost feral?

Before he could think better of it, Bucky nodded. “Yeah, alright. Guess a drink couldn’t hurt.”

~

Steve’s apartment was a modest one-bedroom on the outskirts of the neighborhood. It had taken half an hour, but Bucky had managed to walk the three miles without talking himself out of the evening altogether. He had barely knocked on the door once before Steve opened it, ushering him inside and pushing it closed behind them. He followed Steve to the kitchen, where Steve poured them both a generous glass of wine. Red, Bucky noticed; much more pleasant on a vampire’s palate.

The kitchen’s tall granite island was complete with barstools on two sides. Steve took a seat on one, his back facing the island, and Bucky sat down beside him, taking a long drink. Whether this evening ended well or poorly, he was sure a little buzz wouldn’t hurt. “So,” Bucky asked, giving into his curiosity. “Does the school know? About you being a witch, I mean.”

“Yes,” Steve said, leaning casually back against the counter. “They require a disclosure on all their applications.”

Not surprising. More and more employers were requiring disclosures from non-mortals, which meant fewer and fewer creatures got hired, especially in this part of the world. Bucky nodded in understanding. “Good that they still hired you.”

“Most educational institutions have rules against discrimination,” Steve said, tipping his glass back and drinking slowly. Bucky watched Steve’s throat move, trying not to stare as he licked his lips.

_Careful,_ Bucky cautioned himself.

“Not all of them,” Bucky replied. He was confident that vampires were on most universities’ “do not hire” lists, even if they had a policy against discrimination in place. “There’s a reason I went into business for myself. No disclosures required.”

“Do you like it?” Steve drank again, and Bucky had to wonder if he was leaving his throat exposed on purpose. Was Steve stupid enough to try to tease the vampire? Or was it meant to be an invitation?

“Yeah. Keeps me busy. Keeps me away from people. And from creatures.”

“You don’t like spending time with other creatures?”

“I try to avoid them when I can.” 

Steve set his glass down, his eyes lighting up in fascination. “Why is that?”

Bucky took a single sip of wine, holding Steve’s gaze. “They all seem to have this bad habit of drawing attention.”

“You don’t like attention?”

“No. I don’t.”

Steve shifted closer, his thigh pressing not so subtly against Bucky’s. “What about my attention?”

Bucky considered his response carefully. He took a long drink, draining the glass and setting it down on the counter. “Your attention might be alright.”

Slowly, Steve stood, moving further into Bucky’s space. “This okay?” Steve asked.

Bucky wondered if Steve could feel electricity crackling between them the same way he could. “Yeah.”

Steve pressed forward until their faces were inches apart. He didn’t move to kiss Bucky, but stayed tauntingly close, his hands finding their way to Bucky’s thighs. “I know you want me.”

Bucky forced himself not to breathe in Steve’s scent, then swallowed down thick saliva. “Not doin’ a very good job hidin’ it, am I?”

Steve laughed once, a short, soft exhale. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Bucky shook his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t just want you. I want to _feed_ on you.” It was terrible, having to say it out loud, having to admit to an urge that felt so wrong. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, except that Steve deserved to know the truth.

“I know,” Steve said.

Bucky blinked, stunned. “What?”

“I’m a witch, Bucky. You think I can’t sense things like that?” Steve rested one big, warm palm on Bucky’s chest. Heat radiated through Bucky’s cold skin. “It won’t hurt me like it would hurt a human.” Steve’s other hand came up to stroke the side of Bucky’s face. “You can’t kill me. Can’t turn me.”

Some part of Bucky must’ve known that. He remembered learning it back when he’d first turned, but it had been so damned irrelevant - he wasn’t going to bite anyone, _ever_ \- he hadn’t bothered to remember. Bucky turned his head, nuzzling into Steve’s wrist. It was hard to concentrate, hard to think past that _smell_ , the wall of pheromones that made Bucky ache in places he’d forgotten he had. Not to mention the fact that he could feel the blood pounding in Steve’s veins, hard and fast and so close he could practically taste it. “I don’t bite,” he said with effort. 

“Don’t? Or won’t?”

“Both.”

Steve, apparently, knew better than to argue. Blue eyes searched Bucky’s face, lingering on his mouth before asking, “What about kissing?”

As if on command, Bucky pressed his lips gently against Steve’s palm. “Kissing’s okay.” Still dangerous, but much less so than biting, and _Christ_ , Bucky wanted it.

Steve leaned in and kissed him, his lips soft and electric. It was the same feeling from their first handshake, magnified tenfold. Warmth rose in Bucky’s chest, and that familiar ache started behind his teeth. Bucky willed his fangs not to descend, shifting his focus to Steve’s lips as he slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth. Minutes passed, and one kiss became many; Bucky found himself pinned up against the wall, his clothes in a pile on the floor, with Steve’s hand wrapped firmly around his cock.

“This okay?” Steve asked, as if Bucky’s body wasn’t already singing his praises.

_“Yes._ ” Bucky’s head dropped back against the wall, and he bit his lip hard enough to bruise. The pleasure was blinding. Every stroke of Steve’s hand made his toes curl, and when Steve kissed him again he moaned, the sound echoing through his chest before it was swallowed by Steve’s open mouth.

When Steve finally broke for air, Bucky was almost gone, his hips canting up faster and faster into Steve’s fist. There was so much more he wanted. He wanted to touch; to taste; to explore Steve’s body, slow and languid. But for all his preternatural abilities, he couldn’t think beyond that big, calloused hand on his cock. It was so much better than anything he’d ever felt, especially with Steve’s warm body pressed up against his, and he couldn’t help but think that if sex always felt like this, then maybe there were positives to being a vampire after all. 

Bucky was talking now, mumbling low and fast, barely recognizing the words as they tumbled from his lips. “Yes, just like that, fuckin’ _Christ_.” He buried his face in Steve’s neck, Steve’s scent overpowering enough to bring him straight to the edge. “Gettin’ close, just- gonna-”

Bucky’s orgasm ripped through him, every muscle trembling as he shot off like a rocket. Come coated his chest and stomach, covered Steve’s hand, dripped down onto the floor. Steve didn’t move until Bucky was completely spent, then reached for the towel on the counter to clean them both off.

“Shit,” Bucky said, the words muffled by Steve’s skin. “That was - fuckin’ good.”

Steve finished cleaning come from Bucky’s abdomen, then wiped his hand, dropping the towel next to them on the kitchen tile. Bucky drew back, dropping a kiss onto Steve’s mouth. Steve responded eagerly, sucking at Bucky’s lower lip, and Bucky’s mind finally cleared enough to remember that Steve _hadn’t gotten off yet._

“Can I-” Bucky started, not quite managing to get the question out between kisses. “Can I suck you?”

“God, yes.”

Steve shifted their positions so he could lean against the wall, and Bucky dropped quickly to his knees, making short work of Steve’s jeans and boxers as he went. Vampire reflexes were apparently good for something - taking clothes off in record time. He dragged his nails gently down Steve’s sides, hands curving back to slide over Steve’s ass. Beautiful. Steve was the most damned beautiful man he’d ever seen. He lowered his head, dropping teasing kisses on Steve’s thighs, and Steve moaned, fingers sliding into Bucky’s hair. Bucky looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Sorry,” Steve said, his face flushed. “If you don’t want me to-”

“I don’t hate havin’ my hair pulled, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Steve smiled, a weak, faltering thing that shifted quickly into a silent ‘oh’ when Bucky sucked the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth. Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, and he hummed his satisfaction, taking Steve as deep as he could. He didn’t stop, not even when Steve thrust forward, hips and thighs and ass moving involuntarily in time with Bucky’s mouth. Finally. A real benefit to not having to breathe. Bucky could keep this up for hours, never stopping; and by the sound of it, he hadn’t lost his touch.

Steve’s hand gripped his hair even tighter, tugging twice in warning. Bucky opened wider, sucked harder, and then he felt Steve stiffen, hips arched, eyes closed in blissful release as come spurted into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky swallowed it down, the taste salty on his tongue. Steve breathed shallowly, his body slowly relaxing as Bucky drew back, finally releasing his cock. Damn. What Bucky wouldn’t give to see Steve make that face again - to get to taste Steve, even if it wasn’t the perverse kind of taste he truly craved. 

Steve’s legs quivered, and for a moment it looked like he might actually fall over. 

“Whoa, easy,” Bucky said, hands shifting quickly to brace Steve’s hips.

“Sorry. Sorry, I…” Steve shook his head. “Sometimes I - expend magical energy at inopportune times.” He smiled, sheepish, his face tinged pink with embarrassment.

Bucky smirked. “Must’a been good to get that kind of a reaction.”

Steve nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “More than good.” Steve reached down and pulled his jeans up, not bothering to button them. “I do have a bed. If you wanted to, you know. Lie down for a while.”

They ended up naked under the sheets, their legs tangled together, Steve’s back pressed into Bucky’s chest.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a vampire, you know.”

Bucky scowled. Steve had no right to be so perceptive. There was some sort of magic there. Steve knew what Bucky felt as well as Bucky did. Unfair. “Feels wrong sometimes,” Bucky murmured. “When people’re scared of you, you start to wonder.”

“I’m not scared.”

Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. “Maybe you should be.”

Steve snorted his irritation, but didn’t say anything.

“Nothin’ wrong with being a witch, either, y’know.”

“I never said there was.”

“Haven’t seen you use any magic.” Not even in his own home, around someone who he knew wouldn’t pass any judgment. “How long’s it been?” It was a guess, one Bucky wasn’t sure was right. But Steve seemed like a creature who had been pretending, just like Bucky had.

Steve took a long time to reply. “Over a year.”

Damn. Bucky clenched his jaw. Fuck this world and everyone who made creatures feel less than. “That’s a long time. For someone who’s not a vampire, anyway.”

Steve nodded. “I miss it.”

“Well. You can do magic with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve turned his head. “Are you saying this isn’t just a one-time thing?”

“Came to bed with you, didn’t I?” Bucky pressed a few kisses along Steve’s spine. “I figure we at least owe ourselves a repeat performance.”

Steve liked that, Bucky could tell by the change of energy and the warmth that radiated from Steve’s body to his own. They lay in silence for what felt like hours before Steve spoke.

“You can bite me, you know.” The words were soft and tentative, as if Steve understood the weight they carried. “I know you said you don’t bite, but. If you ever wanted to. You could.”

Bucky resisted the urge to dismiss the idea completely. Steve was only trying to help. To be a good partner, for however long they were partnered for. “Alright,” Bucky said, one hand sliding around Steve’s waist to bring them closer together. “I’ll think about it.”

~

A month later, Steve asked the blunt question.

“Remember when I told you that you could bite me?”

Bucky was in the middle of changing out of his work clothes, and Steve was lounging on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Really, it was enough of a tease without the mention of biting.

“I remember,” Bucky said slowly, undoing the last few buttons of his shirt and shrugging the fabric off, letting it fall to the floor.

“Well. What do you think?”

Bucky frowned, caught off guard and completely turned on. Was Steve suggesting that they do it now? With no planning? No preparation? “I dunno, Steve.”

Steve levered himself out of bed and crossed the rest of the distance, resting one hand on Bucky’s bare chest. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Talking about it and doing it ain’t the same thing.”

“Bucky.” Steve tilted his chin up, meeting Bucky’s eyes with that impenetrable blue gaze. “I want you to.”

Bucky licked his lips. Steve wasn’t just saying Bucky could. Steve was _asking_ him to. Steve _wanted_ it. The idea had Bucky’s head spinning. It was a testament to how far they’d come together that he didn’t say no outright just because it was what he’d always done, what he’d always said. The words ‘I don’t bite’ didn’t even cross Bucky’s mind.

“Really?” Bucky asked. “It’s what you want?”

_“Yes,_ ” Steve said, staring intently into Bucky’s eyes. “I want it. I want you. I want to feel what it’s like.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his fangs from descending, the sharp points forcing him to open his mouth. The ache had started, a familiar burning in his jaw and cheeks making him want to bite down and not let go. Somehow, he got control of the impulse. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his nose into Steve’s neck and breathed deep, nuzzling into the soft skin. “You smell good,” he growled, lips brushing just behind Steve’s ear.

The muscles in Steve’s shoulders shifted restlessly against him. “Quit stalling,” Steve said, half breathless.

Bucky nipped at Steve’s neck in response, enough to scratch, but not enough to break the skin, then laved at the spot with his tongue. Saliva pooled in his mouth. The way Steve _tasted_ , even just on the surface-

“Come _on_ , Buck.”

Fuck. Steve was so damned pushy. It pissed Bucky off and turned him on all at once.

“Fine. You asked for it.” Bucky crowded closer, fisting a hand into Steve’s hair and tilting Steve’s head forcefully to the side, fully exposing tanned skin. Steve let out a soft moan, and Christ, maybe Steve did want this just as much as Bucky did. Bucky’s hesitation disappeared, washed away on a tide of want and need and desperation. Finally, _finally_ , Bucky opened his mouth and sank his aching fangs deep into Steve’s neck.

The taste of fresh blood bloomed on Bucky’s tongue, and he nearly pulled back at the shock of it, his whole body tensing. Yes, yes, _yes._ Christ, it was good. He swallowed, then steadied himself and sucked harder, groaning against Steve’s skin. His focus narrowed to a pinpoint, every part of him alight with pleasure and relief; he was already high on just the taste of Steve, his deep, terrible desire finally satisfied.

Bucky growled, dragging himself away before he drank too much too fast. He pulled back, looking into Steve’s face and taking stock. Steve was still standing. Still breathing. Still staring back at Bucky with those dark eyes.

“Still okay?” Bucky asked, the incredible restraint it took to keep himself from biting Steve again making him tremble. 

“Yes.” It sounded hoarse and wanton, and damn if it didn’t turn Bucky on even more. In his fractured consciousness, he hadn’t noticed how hard he was - his cock strained uncomfortably against the fabric of his trousers, and he was caught briefly between the desire to bite and the desire to kiss. Could he kiss Steve, with Steve’s blood still on his lips and in his mouth? Steve answered the question for him, capturing Bucky’s lips, sucking on Bucky’s tongue before pulling away.

Bucky bit Steve again, and suddenly Steve’s warm palm cupped him through his trousers, then slipped under the waistband to glide slowly up Bucky’s shaft. Bucky arched into the contact, biting down harder. Steve somehow popped the button - or maybe he’d ripped it - and now he had a grip on Bucky’s cock, sliding slow and sure, a rhythm that had Bucky rolling his hips. Every one of Bucky’s nerves sang with sensation, a positive feedback loop stuck on repeat. Was this right? Were they supposed to fuck while Bucky sucked Steve’s blood? Could it possibly feel as good for Steve as it did for him?

“Steve,” Bucky said, withdrawing his fangs from Steve’s skin, small rivulets of blood trailing down Steve’s chest.

Steve paused, searching Bucky’s face. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Bucky said quickly. He didn’t want Steve to get the wrong idea. It was good. Damn good. But was it _right?_ Was he giving Steve enough? “I want it so bad. Just - want to make sure it’s good for you.”

“Buck, you have _no_ idea,” Steve said, turning so that his back pressed into Bucky’s chest, exposing more of his shoulder in encouragement. “Bite me again. Please.”

Bucky did as he was told, sinking his fangs into the other side of Steve’s neck. Steve whimpered, arching back into Bucky, looking for more. Bucky bit harder, savoring the tang of Steve’s blood on his tongue. He remembered that distinctly human inability to focus; the easy slide into distraction; the difficulty that came with trying to feel multiple sensations at once. It was the first time he’d ever been truly thankful for his curse. He could feel _everything_ , every touch, every breath, every pulse of blood through Steve’s veins and his own.

They made it to the bed in a tangle of clothes and limbs and teeth, and then Bucky was inside Steve, his chest pressed to Steve’s back as he worked Steve’s cock, his fangs still latched onto Steve’s shoulder.

Steve gasped, then moaned and sighed and cursed, spending himself onto the sheets. He paused, out of breath, and Bucky waited, close, _so_ close, but not quite there. Steve shifted, then picked up the rhythm, pushing his ass back toward Bucky, moving his hips and clenching down on Bucky’s cock.

“C’mon, Buck. Come for me.”

That pushed Bucky over his edge. He buried himself in Steve, his fangs still rooted in Steve’s neck, drinking deeply as his orgasm washed over him, all sense dissolving in a blinding flash of white.

It took them a few minutes to come down. Steve’s breathing was shallow, his body coated in sweat. Bucky pulled out slowly, carefully, then drew his fangs out of Steve’s neck, licking the last drops of blood from Steve’s skin. Steve sighed, rolling over onto his back, and finally Bucky collapsed face-first onto the bed, sated and spent. “Fuuuuck.”

“Exactly,” Steve said, turning his head toward Bucky and grinning like a fool.

Bucky chuckled, then rolled onto his side. There was blood on Steve’s chest, blood on the sheets, blood on the pillows, and Bucky didn’t give a damn. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Amazing. Perfect.” Steve ran a hand through his already tousled hair, wiping sweat from his brow. “You?”

“Perfect,” Bucky repeated. It was the first time in years - the first time since he’d turned - that he felt entirely relaxed. There was no bloodlust. No need to feed. No nagging ache. Everything was peaceful. Balanced.

He didn’t quite drift off to sleep; he floated in some sort of half consciousness until he felt Steve’s side of the bed shift.

“Mind if I take a shower?” Steve asked, his mouth next to Bucky’s ear.

“Not at all,” Bucky said, eyes closing as Steve leaned in and dropped a languid kiss on his lips. He waited until he heard the water running, then pulled on his robe and moved to the living room. As nice as it would have been to spend the evening in a blissed-out haze, he did have a job to do. The photos sitting on his memory cards weren’t going to edit themselves. Bucky settled himself on the couch, the computer on the coffee table in front of him, and began combing through yesterday’s nature shots.

Steve stepped into the doorway twenty minutes later, towel hanging low on his hips, skin still damp. “I did what you said. Tried out a little healing magic.” Steve turned a little so Bucky could see the spot on his neck.

“Damn.” The puncture wounds had vanished. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, as if focusing harder might make the bite-marks reappear. “They heal up just like that?”

Steve nodded, his eyes dark. “Guess you’ll just have to mark me up again.”

Steve doing magic was enough of a turn-on without the blatant invitation. Bucky licked his lips, and his fangs dropped down, sharp and insistent. “Yeah?”

Steve shrugged one shoulder, then stretched up, the towel slipping just slightly lower on his hips. Bucky stared, entranced. This witch was going to kill him. Would have already, if Bucky hadn’t been immortal.

Smiling in self-satisfaction, Steve turned around, letting the towel fall to the ground - damn, but that was a good view - and disappearing into the bedroom. Bucky abandoned his work and followed, his teeth bared, then closed the door behind them.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is a bit of a departure from my normal work but I really enjoyed working on it. Feel free to stop by on [tumblr](https://sopherfly.tumblr.com/) to see what I'm up to, or just to say hi!


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